


BtVS/AtS drabbles

by felisblanco



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-03
Updated: 2008-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Buffy and Angel drabbles with various pairings and ratings.





	BtVS/AtS drabbles

  
**Pretty Woman**  
Angelus/Darla for [](http://ely-jan.livejournal.com/profile)[**ely_jan**](http://ely-jan.livejournal.com/). Icon by [](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[**bittersweet_art**](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/).

They’d been together for a year before he found out. A tossed out remark that made him see red, ripping the offenders head off before the last laugh left his throat. Wasn’t until he turned around and saw the amused look on her face that he realized it was true. She had been, was, a whore. A woman fallen.

He’d had his share of harlots in his days but this was different. This was his Sire, his… goddess.

That night he took her like the filth she was, hard and fast, fingers around her throat. She laughed as she came.

* * *

 

**Reunion** (Angel/Spike) 

Of all the places Spike could think of, this was probably the last one he'd expected to see _him_ in. But there he was, leaning against the bar, sipping his drink as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Tight leather pants riding low on his hips, even tighter t-shirt hugging his chest. See-through if he wasn't mistaken. Eyeliner, check. Enough hair gel to style the whole Gay Pride Parade, check. Alone and horny? Oh yes, check.

Laughing softly to himself Spike slowly closed in on his prey. This was truly going to be a night to remember.

* * *

 

**Hunger** (Angel) 

It was singing in his dreams, in his nightmares. Pounding in his ears, swirling down his throat, filling his empty belly with its taunting remembrance. So frighteningly delicious he knew he would give anything to have it, to taste it if only once again. His body, his soul... oh god yes, his soul. All it ever did was burn and fill his head with voices of sin and shame and a need so excruciating he wanted to die. He ran his tongue against his teeth, delighting in the comforting tear of his fangs.

Recycled blood. It would have to do.

* * *

 

**Abandoned** (Spike, Angel) 

“Fuck it. And fuck you! You think you are the only one who suffered? That you have a patent on grief? You need to wake up and look around, mate. We’re all in pain. Even me.”

There was no response, not even a glimmer in the blank eyes. Just a silence so thick it was killing him.

“Angel, please. Don’t do this. We… I need you.”

Silence.

“You know, I waited for you,” he said softly. “No matter what Darla said I knew you’d come back to me. Never gave up. Still haven’t.”

Silence.

“Still love you, you know.”

Silence.

* * *

 

 

For [](http://hellziggy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hellziggy.livejournal.com/)**hellziggy** based on this icon: Spike, Andrew

**Rest In Peace. Please. Like Now!**

“Spike?”

“What!?! What's it now? I'm trying to get some sodding sleep here!”

“You ever sleep in a coffin, like real vampyres do?”

“Real...? Listen, you snotty little-”

“All that silk and satin....”

“Know what? I'll be happy to dig one up, throw out the corpse and give you the full 3-D experience. You just say the word, mate.”

“No, thank you. I'm claustrophobic. But you must have...”

“Beds are for sleep, coffins for being dead and buried in. And you're about to find yourself in one!”

“Bed?”

“Coffin!”

...

 

“So, have you ever had sex in one?”

“Oh Christ!”

* * *

 

 

For [](http://miss-c667.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://miss-c667.livejournal.com/)**miss_c667** based on this icon: Angel/Spike

**Capture the Moment**

“Sit still!”

“I am still! It's you, breathing down my neck like a bloody dog that's distracting me.”

“I don't breathe. And why did you have to wear that?”

“What? It's a nice shirt.”

“It's practically see-through, Spike. You might as well be naked.”

“Well, if you insist...”

“Stop it. And those pants! Why did you have to-?”

“Aww, pet. Are you hard? Things getting a tad uncomfortable down there?”

“Not funny! Stop! He'll be back any second and...”

“I apologise for the wait. Now then, are we ready?”

“Yes-” “No-”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Now, look up and say... cheese.”

* * *

 

 

For [](http://piksa.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://piksa.livejournal.com/)**piksa** based on this icon: Angel/Spike

**Bondage Blunder**

It wasn't like he'd never seen him like that before. After all, back in the days, they've gotten up to some pretty kinky stuff. Just...

It took him by surprise and after being wired all day, unable to do anything to relieve the tension... All that leather, the chains and... finally, Spike. Lying there, laid out like a banquet ready to be ravished. And he'd been ready for quite some time judging by the desperate look in his eyes. The room smelled of leather, sweat and precome and god, it was just too much!

“Angel!”

“Fuck! Sorry. That **never** happens!”

* * *

 

 

For [](http://menomegirl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://menomegirl.livejournal.com/)**menomegirl** based on this icon: Angelus/Spike

**True Love is Cruel Love**

Each day it was something. A slap to his head, a hand crunching his shoulder, fists pulling him up by his shirt only to throw him back into the chair. And that self-satisfied smirk that had shivers running down Spike's useless spine as his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. It was a statement, telling him in no uncertain terms that he was good for few thing and fucking wasn't one of them. Wasn't until he pointed out that maybe he couldn't walk but that didn't mean his arse was stitched up that things got more interesting.

* * *

 

For [](http://catvampcrazines.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://catvampcrazines.livejournal.com/)**catvampcrazines**. Giles/books. Sort of. 

**Bibliophilia**

What tipped the scales in deciding his future had without doubt been the smell. That musky and mysterious scent of leather and paper, dust and past readers. Of course there were other factors; it was his destiny, his fate and, most importantly, his duty. So his father said and arguing seemed pointless. He still could have walked away.  
  
In the end though, they drew him in. Pages filled with more questions than answers, carrying more weight in a single page than all of his father's speeches.  
  
They called him a Watcher but in his heart he knew what he was.

* * *

 

 

Spike/Connor for [](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/)**nimenic** based on this icon: 

 

**Like Father Like Son**

 

He truly was his father's son. Broody, sulky, fists up and ready to fight off the world at large. Handsome too, and he knew it. Not his father's muscular (and lately softening, Spike smirked) bulk though, but that deceptive delicacy of his mother, hiding a strength that was shocking as much as exhilarating. Much better hair than the old poof, shaggy and soft; mouth almost feminine as it twisted into another teenage pout. The eyes were pure Angelus though. Dark in anger, sparkling when he smiled. Burning like fire as Spike pushed him down.

Not the same, but close enough.

* * *

 

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://secondalto.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://secondalto.livejournal.com/)**secondalto** based on this icon: 

 

**The Burden of Proof**

“Okay...” Angel gritted his teeth, reluctant defeat in his voice. “I believe you.”

“Yeah?”

He didn't need to see Spike's face to hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yes. Now can you please...”

“Tell me.”

He hissed in frustration. “What?”

“Tell me how big it is.”

Forget smirk, that was the voice of pure evil grinning.

“Spike...” He growled in warning but it was promptly ignored.

“Come on, Angel. Say it or else...”

“Fine! It's huge. It's big enough to scare a fucking donkey. Now move or I swear I'll rip the damn thing off!"

"Bugger, now you scared it."

"Spike!"

* * *

 

For [](http://msdillydally.livejournal.com/profile)[**msdillydally**](http://msdillydally.livejournal.com/) inspired by this icon:

**Health Hazzard**

It was the little things that made the act perfect. The small details that to the unknowing eye seemed coincidental or at least unconscious.

First the place. Somewhere he could lean casually against the wall or the shadows would play on his face, bringing out the beauty of his features. Then... the position of the hand, the tilt of the head, the pursing of his lips. Combined they lay the foundation for the final strike. Tilting his head, eyes half closed, and from his lips slid the perfect pillar of smoke.

Smoking kills. He'd proved it again and again.

* * *

 

For [](http://drankmywar.livejournal.com/profile)[**drankmywar**](http://drankmywar.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon:

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000dxb76/)

Angel/Spike. 

 

**Just Like Old Times**

It feels smooth and hot under his cheek and for a moment he's tempted to give in, relax, let his body soften and mould itself to the black metal. The engine's still ticking, cooling down as he himself heats up. He wonders if Angel can feel it, if the ragged breathing brushing his neck is partly caused by that heat or if it's just the fight making him feel as alive as a dead person can. He closes his eyes for a second, retreating to another time, another place...

Which is why the insistent grinding doesn't even surprise him.

* * *

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/712448.html#)[**woman_of**](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/712448.html#) who wanted a drabble based on this icon:

Just something about their faces, Angel's amused smile and Spike's exasperated look. It all got silly I'm afraid and I didn't have enough words to turn it smutty. Rest assure, two minutes later it probably did. *g*

 

**Bath time**

 

“Scoot over.”

“What are you...? No! No way, mate. You're not getting in here! You're not... Angel!! Get your fat Irish potato arse out of my bath!”

“Uhuh. It's my bath. My apartment, my hot water, my tub. Oh, this is nice. Bubbles and candles and wine...”

“My wine!! My bloody wine! Put that down! Angel, I swear...”

“Didn't know you were such a girl, Spike. Is that lavender soap?”

“I had a bad day, all right? Nothing wrong with a bloke wanting a little quiet... No! Get your hands off Donald!”

“Donald?”

“Shut up! And give me my ducky!”

* * *

 

Doyle (Lindsey)/Spike for [](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/profile)[**killerweasel**](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon:

 

**Pillow Talk**

 

“It looks like a sperm.”

“What? No, it doesn't!”

Spike raised himself up on his elbow and traced the pattern with his forefinger. “A single sperm, swimming to safety. Bloody weird.”

Doyle shook his head and reached over for the glass of whiskey on the bedside table. “If anyone's weird around here, it's you.”

“Yeah, well...” Spike snatched the glass and drained it despite his objections. “I've been called worse.” He returned the glass to the table before focusing on the man beside him. “Talking about sperm...”

Doyle snorted. “Dead sperm.”

Spike smirked. “Once up your arse, does it matter?”

* * *

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/profile)[**bayouskye**](http://bayouskye.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon:

 

**Superheroes**

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “He doesn't even have superpowers, luv.”

“He doesn't need superpowers!”Angel growled. “He uses his brain. Unlike you, Spike.”

He snorted. “Can his brain stop bullets? Can it fly? Can it do anything beside give him bad fashion tips?”

“Right, because wearing your underwear on the outside is soooo cool.”

“Only way they could keep his cock down, mate. The man of steel is hard everywhere. All the time.”

He grinned and Angel couldn't help smiling back. “Pretty much like you then.”

“Pretty much.” Spike smirked and pulled down his zipper. “Except I don't wear any.”

* * *

 

For [](http://hellziggy.livejournal.com/profile)[**hellziggy**](http://hellziggy.livejournal.com/) who wanted Spike/Xander inspired by this icon:

 

**The Element of Surprise**

 

“Oh, it's you. Well, don't just stand there. You're letting the sun in.”

“You're...”

“Yeah, what's that, pet?”

“You're absolutely...”

“Gorgeous? Sexy? Ah! Naked! That's it?”

“Uh...”

“Was feeling a bit hot, you see. Well, of course. I'm always hot, eh?”

“Erm...”

“So, what you here for? Need an extra hand? Or... something.”

“I was... uh...”

“Yeah? Well, I can see that. Quite impressive, pet.”

“Uhuh.”

“So, what ya waiting for? Get your knickers off.”

“Uh... uh...”

“Bloody hell, not fainting, are you? Here, have a drink.”

“Nngh.”

“Better?"

"Uhuh."

"Give us a kiss then. Eh, love?”

“Okay.”

"Good boy."

* * *

 

Spike, Angel for [](http://msdillydally.livejournal.com/profile)[**msdillydally**](http://msdillydally.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon:

 

**The Power of Mercy**

For the first time in decades he finds himself speechless, struck dumb by this vision before him. Not like it's the first person he's chained up - or the hundredth - but this is different. This is Angel. The closest thing he has to God. The feeling is so overwhelming he has to take a step back, put a distance between them in order to be able to really embrace this. Angel. At _his_ mercy. He could so easily kill him. So easily drive a stake through that black pitiful heart. But he doesn't.

So this is what it feels like. Being God.

* * *

 

For [](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/profile)[**nimenic**](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/) who wanted a Spangel drabble based on this icon:

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000dytrc/)

 

**Strokes**

“Erm... Angel? What are you doing?”

“What's it look like?”

“Like you're having a seizure. You all right there, luv?”

“Yes! How's this then?”

“Depends on what it's supposed to be. Did Harm put espresso in your blood again? Because I've told her...”

“Look, maybe it's not me. Maybe it's you.”

“Nothing wrong with me, mate. Roll over and I'll show you.”

“Spike, shutup! Are you honestly telling me this is having no effect on you whatsoever?”

“Can't say it is. But then again, that's not my cock.”

“What!?!”

“Dildo, pet. Think it's time you got those glasses we talked about.”

* * *

 

For [](http://menomegirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**menomegirl**](http://menomegirl.livejournal.com/): Angel/someone other than Spike based on this icon:

Angelus/Pick your own Watcher. I rather see Wesley here though but whatever strikes your fancy. *g*

 

**To Catch a Watcher...**

It was so easy that he rather felt cheated. The man was a former Watcher, for God's sake. He should have anticipated something like this might happen. But no, all it took was the soft stroke of fingers against his cheek and a look that promised what he knew the man had been pining for. A dark room for 'privacy' and then - after a few kisses and some choked “God, Angel. Yes!” - silk ties and leather to signify trust and surrender.

It had been fun though, watching his face change from happiness to horror at the first glimpse of a fang.

* * *

 

For [](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/profile)[**killerweasel**](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon:

Angel, Lindsey. No porn, I'm afraid. Just silliness. Sorry, I think it was the 'made in' that did it.

 

**A Dedicated Follower of Fashion**

 

“So what, Lindsey? You thought you could just sneak in here and...” Angel paused, frowning. “God, what is that?”

Lindsey's poisoned retort died on his lips and he stared at him in surprise. “What?”

“That _thing_. It's... Fuck, what _is_ that?”

“It's a shirt! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lindsey tugged indignantly on the sleeve. “It's a nice shirt!”

Angel sighed. “I know you like to dress like a redneck, being one, but...” He shook his head. “Lindsey, my boy. You can be evil and still have taste.”

Amazing how much fury can fit into one tiny Texan

* * *

 

Angel/Wesley. S4

**Flicker**

For the shortest moment he felt it. Happiness. Complete and so overwhelming that tears sprung into his eyes and breathing seemed beyond possible. His heart leapt and his stomach filled with butterflies. And in the deepest chamber of his soul a voice whispered that this was his salvation, his dream of forgiveness coming true.

Then the lips abandoned his, a step backwards put a distance of infinity between them and he was left feeling devastatingly alone, as if the whole world had died to save him.

"This doesn't change anything."

He nodded, standing stiff until darkness swallowed the retreating figure.

* * *

 

A little birthday drabble for [](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/profile)[**killerweasel**](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/) who wanted Angel/Lindsey, hot up against the wall.

 

**With Enemies Like These...**

It was the eyes that did it. One minute they were glaring at him with hate and fury and then suddenly... The pupils widened until they were black as night, the lust burning in their depths surprising both of them. The forced breathing quickened, air wheezing its way through the clenched throat. Slowly Angel loosened his grip on the tense neck, his fingers caressing the bruised skin gently as he leaned forward. There was only the slightest resistance, barely noticeable, and then Lindsey kissed him back with passion, the soft growl rumbling up from Angel's chest, echoing in their mouths.

* * *

 

 

For [](http://kaydee23.livejournal.com/profile)[**kaydee23**](http://kaydee23.livejournal.com/) who wanted: _How about Angel/Spike post NFA. They're both injured and taking care of each other._

It went a slightly different route but I hope that's okay. Lousy title, my mind just went blank.

 

**Survivors**

It wasn't so much the dark that did it. He was used to darkness, born out of it the clichés said. Could see well enough, at least what he needed and ignore the rest. And the screams, they blended in with the growls and roars after a few days. Again, music to his evil ears, right? It was cold, bloody freezing at times but that shouldn't matter. If anything vampires were made for times like these, yeah? Days of the damned.

He could take it. He'd walk through this Hell, smirk on his lips.

If Angel would just stop crying...

* * *

 

For [](http://tx-cronopio.livejournal.com/profile)[**tx_cronopio**](http://tx-cronopio.livejournal.com/) who wanted: _Wes/Gunn. Text from Shakespeare, although I'm too lazy to look up the exact quote, Tis a pity to wound a fallen man._ I tried to find the exact quote but didn't manage. Not that it really matters. Set shortly after Waiting In The Wings.

 

**Bittersweet Victory**

 

“Have you come to gloat? To rub your victory in my face?” Wes' voice was low, defeat in his tone. “Go on. I'm sure I would have.”

Gunn stopped, staring at the slumped man by the window. “That's how you see her? Like a prize to be won?”

He blinked. “No, not a prize. A gift maybe. Something precious I thought I might...” His voice trailed off into silence.

Gunn stood still for a moment then turned around, closing the door quietly behind him. Suddenly he didn't feel as smug in his happiness. No victory in defeating a broken man.

* * *

 

This one is for [](http://ely-jan.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ely-jan.livejournal.com/)**ely_jan** who wanted: _Angel/Wes - S5, angry frustration after Cordy's death._ Hope it fits.

 

**Loss**

 

“I don't believe you! She was... She was right here!”

“Don't you think I know that? Don't you think...” Angel averted his eyes in pain. “She was my anchor. My-”

The loud crash made him swing around. Wesley stood cradling his hand, a thin crack running through the fine wooded desk.

“Wes...”

“You said they would find a way to heal her!”

Angel flinched. “Wesley, I...”

“You promised!"

His tears burned the palm of Angel's hand. He pulled the shaking man into his arms and held him until all anger was drained away leaving only the pain of sorrow behind.

* * *

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://amavel-bel.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://amavel-bel.livejournal.com/)**amavel_bel**

 

**A New Beginning**

He wasn’t sure what made this night so much different. Maybe it was the howling of the wind that reminded them of the ghosts in their souls. Maybe it was the horror of the day, the futility of their struggle against evil. Maybe it was the glittering of tears in Angel’s eyes or the shiver of sorrow running through Spike’s body.

But suddenly it seemed that they would not - could not - live another day or survive another night in this void of emotion.

They never stopped kissing, not even when Spike breached Angel for the very first time.

* * *

 

This one is for [](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/profile)[**nimenic**](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/). Angel.

 

**The Power of Belief**

Long before his turning he’d known what he was. He had a feeling his father had known as well, or at least guessed to some extent, since the handsome young stable boys never stayed long. Not that he ever acted on his urges while alive but it was no doubt evident in his eyes and his manner. Stolen glances, flushed cheeks, words muttered carelessly in drunkenness.

Resurrected he had cast that cloak of chastity soon enough, revelled in what his foolish human self had not dared to. Still…

Over 250 years later, in his Catholic heart, he always felt guilty.

* * *

 

This one is for [](http://jans-intentions.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://jans-intentions.livejournal.com/)**jans_intentions** who wanted Xander/Angel. First Xangel I've done. Hope it's ok.

 

**The Final Step**

“Xander?”

“Yeah.”

The boy didn’t turn around but Angel could hear the smile in his voice. He crossed the room quietly, pausing a few steps away.

“There’s still time to change your mind. There’s always time.”

Xander shook his head. “I’m not going to change my mind. Nothing could make me change my mind.”

“Not even that?”

Xander tilted his head then shook it again. “No. Nothing.”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. A good fear though. Feels nice.” He swallowed. “Ok. I’m ready.”

He reached back and as Angel took his hand and led him away the curtains closed on his last sunset.

* * *

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://pet-23.livejournal.com/profile)[**pet_23**](http://pet-23.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon by [](http://zandra-x.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://zandra-x.livejournal.com/)**zandra_x**.  
[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/00028kcx/)

Set during What's My Line, pt.2.

 

**Together Again**

If he hadn’t been so angry, so blinded by rage that he could hardly see straight. If he hadn’t been so hurt by Dru and her treacherous behaviour. If his head hadn’t been swimming with that infuriating scent of long gone mornings and never forgotten nights. If his hands hadn’t been shaking from gripping what he’d thought he’d never touch again. If his heart hadn’t been bleeding his grief, his regret, his anger with God and the Universe for taking what was meant to be forever.

Then he might have noticed that Angel succumbed to his will far too easily.

* * *

 

 

[](http://menomegirl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://menomegirl.livejournal.com/) **menomegirl** wanted a drabble based on Smile Time.

Angel, Cordelia.

**The Danger of Puppet Dating**

“Well, how was I supposed to know?”  
“The gigantic insane eyes might have given you a hint!”  
“Angel, sweetie. She looked just your type. Tiny blue eyed blonde.”  
“Hey! I’m not that predictable!”  
“Of course not. CoughDarlaBuffyNinacough.”  
“I heard that!”  
“Look, no harm done…”  
“No harm!?! First Nina disembowels me…”  
“Rips out your stuffing, you mean.”  
“And then this crazy Tiffany bitch stabs me in the back!”  
“Like I said, just your type.”  
“Lorne.”  
“I’m kidding! Now, Miss Piggy…”  
“I. Don’t. Eat. Pork!”  
“Fine! This Puppet Partner Agency is closed.”  
“Good.”

...

“Although I hear someone made a Spike puppet…”

...

“Oh?”

* * *

 

 

**My True Self** (Spike) 

The first time it took him a moment to recognise himself. After all he hadn’t seen himself in the mirror for over a hundred years and he’d looked quite differently then. But there was no mistaking it. The white hair, the blue eyes, the scar over his eyebrow. It was all there.

“You're not me.”

But then he saw it. Shining out of those pretty eyes, displayed by the curling of his lips, the flicker of a beast under human skin.

Pure Evil.

What he didn’t see was the soul but it probably didn’t make such a big impact anyway.

* * *

Just a little something for [](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[**bittersweet_art**](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/) who is feeling down. A drabble based on her OMGHAWT!! icon which photobucket deemed too indecent to keep. Sorry. Angel/Spike. 

**Sex Ed.**

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

“Oh yeah.”

“I never…”

“No.”

“'Cause…”

“I know!”

“Think we should…”

“Yeah.”

“In case they…”

“Uhuh.”

“We wouldn’t want to…”

“Definitely not.”

The girls quietly closed the door, leaving a whiff of arousal. Spike opened his eyes then lazily rolled over and nuzzled into Angel’s neck. Strong arms pulled him tighter and he sighed as his cock rubbed against Angel’s thigh.

“Next time maybe we should lock the door.”

“And deprive the children of their sex education?”

“You’re right. So what lesson do we have for Xander when he comes to verify their story?”

“Bottoms up, luv.”

* * *

 

This one is for [](http://emmegirl827.livejournal.com/profile)[**emmegirl827**. Spike/pretty much everyone](http://emmegirl827.livejournal.com/)

[](http://emmegirl827.livejournal.com/)

 

**Spike-fever**

“I can’t believe this!”

“Why? Surprised that someone actually wants me?”

“No! But… Angel? I thought you both loved me! And… he’s a guy!”

“Homophobic, are we?”

“No! It’s just… Well, if you love him why did you have sex with Xander?”

“He had beer. Beer makes me horny.”

“That’s just… eeww! And then Oz?”

“PMS.”

“What?”

“Pre-Moon Stress. Sex helps. Plus, he’s got this great Tantric technique…”

“TMI! TMI! And Riley?”

“What can I say? I like a man in uniform.”

“But… Giles? How could you? He’s like our father.”

Spike grinned. “And what an excellent Daddy he is.”

* * *

 

[For ](http://emmegirl827.livejournal.com/)[](http://spikes-heart.livejournal.com/profile)[**spikes_heart**](http://spikes-heart.livejournal.com/) here comes Spuffy! 

 

**Displaced**

She keeps finding herself staring at him. Watching the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the way his forehead creases when he’s deep in thought. How the tiny wrinkles crinkle around his eyes when he smiles, how he squints them when he reads. The way he sometimes unconsciously reaches up to rub the faint scar on his neck, an act that makes her own tingle. His lower lip pouting like a child’s.

It’s not the wrongness of him that fills her with self-hatred. It’s all the right things that on any other man would have proved him perfect.

* * *

 

Spike, Wes for [](http://strickens-girl.livejournal.com/profile)[**strickens_girl**](http://strickens-girl.livejournal.com/) based on this icon:

[](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/33801108/2047684/)

 

**Fabricated Fantasies**

He wouldn’t even have noticed, except Wes leaned over to drink his tea.

“Wait, is that...?”

The laptop smacked close but not before he’d confirmed what he’d glimpsed. “Wes! I’m impressed!”

“I don’t know what you’re...” Wesley blushed. “Look, you can’t tell him.”

“Bugger that! This is great! I can’t believe he...”

“He didn’t, ok? These... they’re not real.”

“Looked real enough.”

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? Now, promise?”

Spike pouted. “Why should I?”

“I have pictures of him in a thong.”

…

“You know how to do these manipulations?”

“Yes.”

“Wesley, my friend. Suddenly I’m feeling very creative.”

* * *

 

This one is for [](http://moonlit-violets.livejournal.com/profile)[**moonlit_violets**](http://moonlit-violets.livejournal.com/) based on an icon I've since lost. Fred/Gunn, Angel. AtS S4.

 

**Whispers In The Night**

She couldn’t look him in the eye afterwards. He could smell her shame, her deep embarrassment. He should apologise. He should tell her none of it was true, that this was just how Angelus worked. Guessing people’s secrets, throwing them in their faces as he laughed at their humiliation. Angelus thrived on things like that, but not him. He would never…

Except he did. Every single night.

Most of all he loved her soft gasps when she bucked on the bed, clutching Gunn’s cock tight inside her as he cried out in ecstasy.

It made his own release so much sweeter.

* * *

 

For [](http://delmi.livejournal.com/profile)[**delmi**](http://delmi.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this cute Angel icon by [](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[**bittersweet_art**](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/). 

[](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/33561950/2047684)

 

**Jealous? Me? Yeah, right.**

_What are they on? Seriously! Deluded, the lot of them. Can’t they see through the act, through the obvious charade? For one thing, he only got his soul to impress Buffy. Stupid. I could have told him it would never work. Didn’t I have a soul like years and years and I am still an ‘evilvampireomg!!’? And what’s with the champion thing? One time! He saved the world one fucking time and everyone’s acting like it’s something special. Well, hello?! Several apocalypses averted here! Does no one even remember that? And… and… just look at that hair!_

Champion my ass.

* * *

 

This one is for the lovely [](http://miss-c667.livejournal.com/profile)[**miss_c667**](http://miss-c667.livejournal.com/) who wanted a Spander drabble based on an icon I've since lost

 

**Aftershock**

He doesn’t even notice the cold. Doesn’t see the drops falling softly from a sky that has never looked so dark. Doesn’t realise his naked indignity, clutching ripped and damp clothes to his chest. Doesn’t sense his hands shaking, his knees weaken. Doesn’t feel the tears joining rain on his cheeks, his lower lip quivering, his throat hurting with suppressed sobs. Doesn’t hear the creaking of rusty hinges, the reluctant steps on wet grass, the surrendered sigh.

“Bugger it. Come on back in then, pet. Maybe it is more than just a shag.”

Kiss on his lips. That he feels.

* * *

 

For [](http://ely-jan.livejournal.com/profile)[**ely_jan**](http://ely-jan.livejournal.com/) who obviously likes a little kink in her life. *g* Based on my Bondage Friday icon.

[](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/18934518/2047684)

 

**Devious Game**

They love these games. Makes them feel fun and playful, like in the old days before evil lawyers and unsure missions. Fake fear in their eyes as he ties them up, real arousal in the air as he gags them and gives each and everyone his devoting attention. Sexy smirk, knowing eyes, making them doubt for a second that it’s really just a game. Leather pants and silk shirts. Eyeliner for the perfect look.

If they only knew why he’s so happy to play along. Why he doesn’t find it silly. Why he seems perfectly content.

He sighs.

Finally silence.

* * *

 

Spike/Giless for [](http://willa-writes.livejournal.com/profile)[**willa_writes**](http://willa-writes.livejournal.com/) who asked for a drabble based on this icon by little old me. Set during Bargaining part 1. Hope you like, sweetie.

[](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/12348634/2047684)

 

**Connecting**

“Oh, poor Watcher. Did your life pass before your eyes? Cuppa tea, cuppa tea, almost got shagged, cuppa tea?”

He steps back, sarcastically sneering, but the hold on his hand tightens until he can feel the bones creaking in protest. Surprised he looks up. Giles’ eyes are dark, his face even darker and Spike can feel the heat from his skin burning the palm of his hand. Hitched breath brushing his face, the undeniable aroma making him instantly hard. They hold each other’s gaze, oblivious to their surroundings, until Willow’s commands break through their thoughts.

“Later?” He offers.

Silence.

“Yes.”

* * *

 

For [](http://piksa.livejournal.com/profile)[**piksa**](http://piksa.livejournal.com/) based, as requested, on this icon by [](http://ruuger.livejournal.com/profile)[**ruuger**](http://ruuger.livejournal.com/)

[](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/33662334/2047684)

 

**Unspeakable Cruelty**

Great. Just fucking great.

As if it isn’t enough that they treat him like a dog; only feeding him when he’s good, scolding him when he’s a bad puppy. As if it isn’t enough to be dumped on pizza-boy’s lap, forced to stay in this place that smells worse than any tomb. As if it isn’t enough being tied to this ugly chair - although mildly ego boosting that he’s still considered a threat - with knots that wouldn’t even hold a ten year old human.

That’s fucking annoying. But this? Is torture.

“No bloody smoking? Are you fucking serious?”

* * *

 

For [](http://zinnydark.livejournal.com/profile)[**zinnydark**](http://zinnydark.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on an icon I've since lost but I'm pretty sure it was the Vespa scene in The Girl in Question. Angel/Spike.

 

**Betraying Boner**

 

As he swung his leg over, he sulked that at least there was no pink helmet this time. Fucked with his hair. Made him look stupid. Dorky.

He should be grateful, really.

Except he wasn’t. Grateful, that is. He was kinda busy feeling flushed and nervous and increasingly uncomfortable as Spike’s ass nudged against his crotch, the creaking of leather against leather bringing back memories he could almost smell in the air. Leather, blood, sweat and cum. The flashbacks disoriented him and for a moment he though he would fall off. Desperate he grasped Spike, pulling him closer.

Big mistake.

* * *

 

 

 

**First Kiss** (Spike/Xander) 

It was... awkward. Not really what he'd imagined, like a billion times.  
  
Of course they'd been fighting, viciously. And maybe he'd said things, untrue things, he shouldn't.

And they were sober, which is never a good thing if you're gonna kiss a guy. Especially a guy like Spike. Better to be able to go 'Hey, I'm drunk. And accidentally fell on your lips. Oops?' if things went wrong.  
  
Instead they had Willow, glaring at them, threatening she'd turn them into toads unless they kissed and made up.

Not exactly romantic.  
  
But it was still a kiss. And that's what counted.

* * *

 

 

This one is also for [](http://pet-23.livejournal.com/profile)[**pet_23**](http://pet-23.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon. 

[](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/30925285/2047684)

 

**Brothers in Arms**

“But if I **did** have an army…”

Angel shook his head. “Who would be in your army, Spike?”

“Not an armed army, you wanker. A naked army.”

Angel frowned. “Now you’re just being stupid. Naked army?”

“Spike’s Army of Intimate Nude Teenagers. S.A.I.N.T.s.” He ignored Angel’s snort and started pacing the room, gesturing wildly. “You have this enemy, right? And they’ve been marching, they’re tired, dying to go home and then what meets them instead of the usual gun pointing tossers? Row upon row of these pretty naked boys, saluting the Über-cock. Voilá. Make love not war.”

“Über-cock?”

Spike grinned.

* * *

 

This one is for [](http://zinnydark.livejournal.com/profile)[**zinnydark**](http://zinnydark.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon:

 

**Hidden Pleasures** (Dawn, Spike) 

“Did you know Angel has a website?”

Spike frowned and looked up at the grinning girl. “Didn’t even think the poof knew the internet existed. What’s he need a website for then?”

“Cordelia probably did it for him,” Dawn mused, “although that’s actually even stranger. Anyway, it’s for his vampire detective thing.” She giggled. “There’s even a picture.”

“Let me see! Oh god, that’s priceless. What’s he got there? Bio… twenty five my arse! Looks forty. Doesn’t he look forty? Links… what’s this? Oooh, hidden link! Probably porn knowing him. Hmm… Why would he have our names… Bit, what’s slash?”

* * *

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://tx-cronopio.livejournal.com/profile)[**tx_cronopio**](http://tx-cronopio.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on my icon

[](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/13896476/2047684)

 

**Fruity Fornication**

“Wouldn’t an orange be enough?”

“For you maybe. I wouldn’t even get half of mine in.”

“Oh. Hey!”

“Kidding. Besides, it would sting.”

“Sting?”

“Ever eaten an orange with a sore in your mouth? Stings like a motherfucker, mate.”

“You should know.”

“Oi! I **never** shagged my mum! I staked her, but I didn’t shag her.”

“Ever read Freud, Spike?”

“Ever tried getting a melon out of your arsehole?”

“Point taken. So… melon?”

“If you’re gonna be like that there won’t even be grapes.”

“Sorry. Please?”

“All right. So what you do is make a hole in one end and…”

* * *

 

Connor/Cordy, Angel for [](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[**bittersweet_art**](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/) who wanted a drabble based on this icon:

 

**Betrayal**

Rage. Fiercer than he’d ever felt before. Exploding in his chest, boiling in his blood, blackening his vision. He could hear her moans and his grunts, their hearts beating in escalating harmony as they moved like snakes, writhing and glistening with sweat.

Falling to his knees he roared his fury to the bloodied and burning sky. This? This was what he was fighting for?

Angelus laughed and rattled the fragile cage inside his dead heart.

When he came back to reality they were gone. Written across the steamed glass window were six mocking words: ‘Was it good for you too?’

* * *

 

[](http://harmonyfb.livejournal.com/profile)[ **harmonyfb**](http://harmonyfb.livejournal.com/) made me [kill Spike](http://www.livejournal.com/users/harmonyfb/382158.html) *sobs*

**Baptised**

It stungstungstung like tiny needles all over his skin. Pricking, piercing, burningburningburning. He could feel it penetrate, melting his tattered clothes into his skin, his flesh, his bones. An agony so fierce all he could do was pray for it to hurry up, to end this nightmare. The smoke got lost in the fog, his screams in the roars of a thousand demons dying. The last thing he saw was Angel falling to the ground, a look of astonishment on his face as his awakened heart picked up the beat.

“And from the skies the holy rain showered the unworthy.”

* * *

 

 

**Oh...** (Angel/Spike) 

Funny how he'd never noticed how those blue eyes used to follow him around, watching his every move like they were searching for some kind of sign.

Funny how he'd never noticed how they could change from hopeful to hurt in just a matter of seconds before they were cloaked behind a cold look of indifference.

Funny how he'd never noticed how beautiful they were whether staring straight at him in defiance or looking coyly at him beneath sooty eyelashes.

Funny how it suddenly all became clear to him when he wasn’t the one they were looking at any more.

* * *

 

 

 

Angel/Buffy, Spike for [](http://emmegirl827.livejournal.com/profile)[**emmegirl827**](http://emmegirl827.livejournal.com/). 

**Fucking furious**

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, you fucking sodding shit!" His fist shoots through the wall, the splinters piercing his skin giving him a strange feeling of satisfaction as the blood flows down his arm. Anger, pain, blood. That he can handle, that is his territory. He welcomes the pain like a long-lost friend and with renewed fury he pummels the wall again and again before turning around and kicking the chair so hard it crashes into the door. Heaving for breath and trembling with fury he stands alone in the middle of his destruction.

Closing his eyes, he still sees them kiss.

* * *

 

This one is for [](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nimenic.livejournal.com/)**nimenic** who wanted a drabble based on this icon.  
[](http://pics.livejournal.com/felisblanco/pic/000294b9/)  
Turned into a Spander piece, hope you don't mind.

**Cravings**

He kept to the shadows, drawing back slightly when the pale face was lit a short moment by the tiny fire. There was a click and then blue smoke was blown out into the night. Twirling, steaming, puffed out in small rings that expanded and finally disintegrated into the dark. It was mind-boggling how Spike could do all that stuff and he imagined him rolling his tongue and pursing his lips to achieve the right effect.

"Wanna fag?"

Fuck! Should have known he’d smell it. "I'm not gay!"

It wasn't until he heard the soft chuckle that he got it.

* * *

 

For [](http://miss-c667.livejournal.com/profile)[**miss_c667**](http://miss-c667.livejournal.com/). Post NFA. 

 

**Reflections**

Bleached hair, curled around his head. Sharp cheekbones. Blue eyes, much bluer than he remembers them being, arched by dark eyebrows that look odd on the fair skin. God, he's so pale! He stretches out his hand and when the fingers touch the flat surface he feels a longing he can't explain. Slowly he leans forward and kisses his own lips in the mirror. They're cold and hard. He wonders if that's what he was like. If this is Spike just like he now is William.

He always knew he was handsome, he just never realised he looked so sad.

* * *

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://somecandytalkin.livejournal.com/profile)[**somecandytalkin**](http://somecandytalkin.livejournal.com/) that wanted a drabble based on this icon by [](http://iconomania.livejournal.com/profile)[**iconomania**](http://iconomania.livejournal.com/). 

[](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/15489097/2047684)

**Pout**

He should be working through the piles of paperwork that had been multiplying on his desk since forever. Instead he was quietly watching Spike who was too engrossed in his book to notice. Funny thing really, that after all their years apart, all the fighting and the animosity all it had taken was one tiny thing to make him fall again, just as hard as he had all those years ago. A subdued sniff as trembling fingers turned over to the next page warmed his heart even further.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

And there it was. The cutest pout in the world.

 

 

 **Puchero**  
(Spanish tranlation by [](http://vicenivi.livejournal.com/profile)[**vicenivi**](http://vicenivi.livejournal.com/), added 19.04.2008)

Debería estar trabajando en los montones de papeles que habían estado multiplicándose en su escritorio desde siempre. En cambio , estaba mirando silenciosamente a Spike ,demasiado absorbido en su libro para notarlo . Lo gracioso, realmente, era que después de tantos años separados, de toda la lucha y la animosidad, algo tan diminuto fuera todo lo que le había bastado para enamorarse otra vez , y con la misma intensidad con la que se había enamorado hacía tantos años ya. Una tenue inhalación mientras unos dedos inquietos pasaban a la siguiente página calentó su corazón aún más .

"¿Spike? "

"¿Sí? "

Y allí estaba. El puchero más mono del mundo.

* * *

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://strickens-girl.livejournal.com/profile)[**strickens_girl**](http://strickens-girl.livejournal.com/)

 

**The Wrong Word?**

The strong fingers tug at his hair, bending his neck sideways and then there's a tongue licking a trail from his ear and down to his collarbone. He stumbles back, only to have Angel's hard erection grinding against his ass. "Oh fuck, yes."

Spike stops breathing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Fuck?" His father nibbles his ear, making him shiver and moan. "I thought I told you not to say that word."

"I'm so… sorry, daddy." He thinks he's gonna come in his pants, without even being touched

"I might have to punish you."

One light tap and he’s lost.

* * *

 

Set in AtS S5, sometime before Destiny. Angel/Spike.

 

**Feel Me**

The steam made him seem otherworldly, like a creature stepping out of a fairytale. A beautiful creature of muscle and pale skin, glistening under the fall of water. Head thrown back, eyes closed, lower lip pinched between blunt teeth. Hand working slowly; up and down, over and around. When he lowered his head, eyes still closed in ecstasy Spike wrapped his arms around the wet body, lips claiming a soft kiss.

He imagined hearing Angel hitch his breath but when he looked up, hand hovering above Angel's heart, he was reaching for the soap before slowly washing away his sin.

* * *

 

Seems I'm in an NFA drabble mood. So beware, they're not gonna be happy, probably not any of them. Might do one for each character if the muse doesn't desert me.

 

**Hope** (Angel's POV) 

Swinging the sword above his head he hopes they don’t sense the fear that is so close to paralysing him. This is it. This is what he’s brought them to. What the hell was he thinking?

Soon Gunn’s heart stops beating, then Illyria is sobbing as Fred for a few precious seconds before she’s abruptly cut off.

Abruptly cut.

Why did he decide this was all worth it? All those lives in exchange for what? Annoying the senior partners temporarily? He looks back and as Spike catches his eye he knows exactly why. So he gives him a smile and…

 

 

**Forever And A Day** (Gunn's POV) 

Clutching the wound in his side in a futile attempt to stop the life from pumping out of his veins he looks up and stares incredulous at the army approaching. He didn’t even know there were so many monsters in the world. Blinking the rain out of his eyes he starts laughing hysterically, ignoring Illyria’s cold stare and Spike’s wince. Angel’s guilt.

Funny, but no matter how many he’s seen fall, killed or cursed by the forces of evil, he never expected to be one of them. _He_ was going to live forever.

Seems forever is shorter than he thought.

 

 

**Within The Shell** (Wes' POV) 

Somehow it's not the sight of her sweet face or the sound of her kind voice that follows him over. It's not the touch of her slender fingers or the feel of her soft lips upon his clammy skin that stay in his memory after all else is gone. Not the heaving of her bosom, not the perfume still lingering in her hair. After all, he knows it’s not real, just an illusion.

No, what shocks him enough to be the only memory he'll keep is the taste of her tears falling into his gaping mouth just before he dies.

 

 

**I'll Do My Crying in the Rain** (Spike's POV) 

Somehow it didn't even occur to him until that moment that he'd never told him. He turned around, needing both of them to hear those words, by accident catching Angel's eye. Time stood still; raindrops, men and monsters frozen in motion around them. Then Angel smiled and it didn't matter that they were cold and wet, that they were exhausted beyond imagination, that they were ten feet apart. Spike could still taste Angel on his tongue, could still feel the warmth of the fire playing on their skin, could still feel that sweet burn.

Right until Angel's dust floated away.

* * *

 

For Vic who wanted comic fluff. I tried, my dear. Angel/Spike.

**Tantric Trauma**

It amused him to no end that no matter how many times he tried to teach Angel the importance of locked doors they kept getting caught with their pants down. After the fifth time, Angel indignantly insisting that he had indeed turned the lock, Spike started to suspect it was more a matter of Angel’s exhibitionism than an actual case of dementia. After all, he always had loved a distressed audience in the old days. Something the employees of Wolfram and Hart certainly were becoming.

Either that or Andrew had been at it with his clever set of gadgets again.

* * *

 

Angel/Spike for [](http://pet-23.livejournal.com/profile)[**pet_23**](http://pet-23.livejournal.com/). 

 

**So Close...**

“Angel…”

Spike turned and glared at Wes before stomping off, muttering ‘Every sodding time!’ under his breath.

“Wes, did you need something?”

Wesley looked at Angel who he now noticed seemed just as irritated as Spike and for a moment he hesitated. Obviously he’d interrupted something important and asking for a few days off was probably not the smartest move. “Erm… nothing important really. Meeting in an hour, yes?”

Getting a grumpy confirmation he hurried out, careful not to look back, thus missing the perturbed look on Angel’s face as he reached up and touched his lips with inadequate fingertips.

* * *

 

Just a little something that has been haunting my thoughts in bed at nights. Spike/Angel, AtS S5.

 

**Never Enough**

It doesn’t matter how vicious and spiteful their daily fighting is. When night comes they seek each other out, foregoing their differences for their mutual anguish. Guilt and grief, hurt and loneliness. Demons striving to be human, souls crying for hopeless salvation. Blocking out old memories with renewed passion; temporarily forgetting a future that most likely will not exist.

Except the nights Angel doesn’t dream of past victims but of a soft cheek pressed against his, a tiny fist gripping his thumb. Those are the nights that Spike spends watching him crying, painfully realising how utterly inadequate his comfort is.

* * *

 

 

I've been following the senses challenges on [](http://slashthedrabble.livejournal.com/profile)[**slashthedrabble**](http://slashthedrabble.livejournal.com/) without ever having time or inspiration to write anything. Well, now all 5 are done so I decided to try my hand at them but with a little twist. So here are the five senses together in one drabble. 20 words each. Set after Spike got his chip. Angel/Spike. 

**Senses**

First came the sound of footsteps. Hesitant, like their owner doubted he was welcome, believing he’d surely be turned away. Next Angel noticed the smell of blood, emanating like perfume, making him shiver with delight and groan with suppressed need. He turned around and there he was, standing submissive by the door, awaiting whatever fate his Sire would assign him. Three steps forward and mere inches away, Angel leaned in and lovingly caught a drop of blood with his tongue. It tasted of fear and grief and when he finally opened his arms Spike’s tears soaked through his silk shirt.

* * *

 

**Small Comfort** (Spike) 

The steam from the mug hit him in the face, forming tiny drops of water on his cool skin. He inhaled sharply, letting the heat fill his lungs before taking a careful sip.

Fuck. Too hot again.

So many mugs and still he never managed to get the temperature right.

Sighing, he ripped open the bag and dropped them in, one by one. Then he absentmindedly watched them swirl around until they dissolved in the hot liquid, turning it milky white.

Somehow hot cocoa never tasted the same since Joyce died, no matter how many marshmallows he put in it.

 

 

 **Pequeño consuelo**  
(translation by [](http://vicenivi.livejournal.com/profile)[**vicenivi**](http://vicenivi.livejournal.com/))

 

El vapor de la taza le golpea en la cara, formando gotas diminutas de agua sobre su fría piel. Inhaló fuertemente, dejando que el calor llene sus pulmones antes de tomar un cuidadoso sorbo.

Joder. Demasiado caliente otra vez.

Tantas tazas y seguía sin acertar con la temperatura.

Suspirando, rasgó la bolsa y las dejó caer, una a una. Después, distraídamente las miró arremolinarse hasta que se disolvieron en el líquido caliente, haciéndolo blanco lechoso.

El cacao caliente, de algún modo, nunca había tenido el mismo sabor desde que Joyce murió, no importa cuantas melcochas (marshmallows ) pusiera en él.

* * *

 

In answer to [](http://snowpuppies.livejournal.com/profile)[**snowpuppies**](http://snowpuppies.livejournal.com/) last line challenge. Wes, Spike.

 

**Not The One**

"Well... fuck."

"If you insist."

Wes turned around sharply, sighing when he saw a smirking Spike leaning against the doorframe.

"Subtle as ever. Although I doubt you'd ever follow through on any of your offers." He'd hardly finished the last syllable when he was pressed up against the wall, a cool tongue licking his neck.

"Really? You think I won't fuck you here and now? Especially since I can smell your need."

His heart pounding, Wes pushed Spike off and turned to face him. "Not when we both know we'd only be poor substitutes for Him."

Spike flinched, then turned and stalked out, leaving the air vibrating with suppressed desire.

* * *

 

For [](http://zinnydark.livejournal.com/profile)[**zinnydark**](http://zinnydark.livejournal.com/) 's birthday. Angel/Spike. 

**Everything Has It's Limit**

“No!”

“But Spike…”

“No, I won’t do it.”

“But I thought you liked…”

“Of course I bloody well like it. But I’ve been at it for two hours now.”

“Two hours? Really? It went by really fast.”

“For you maybe. You’re not the one who has an aching jaw, a raw throat and a tongue the size of a pillow.”

“But I’m not there yet.”

“I don’t care! I’m no robot! I’m no energizer! I just can’t keep going and going and going and going...”

“But Spike…”

“No. I quit. You can get someone else to sing you to sleep.”

* * *

 

[](http://hellsbells.livejournal.com/profile)[ **hellsbells**](http://hellsbells.livejournal.com/) is ~~demanding~~ requesting smutty, porny Spangel over on [](http://sickchicks.livejournal.com/profile)[**sickchicks**](http://sickchicks.livejournal.com/). I of course felt ~~forced to bow to her command~~ happy to comply. Written in about 2 minutes. And I forgot to count the words so it came to 119. Maybe I'm getting over my laptop grieving writer's block...

 

**The Perfect Mix**

"God, you're tight" Angel's panting turned into a growl as he slammed harder inside, smiling as he felt his boy tearing around him. "Such a tight little eternal virgin."

Spike tried to growl back but the gag made it a muffled groan and after some time he gave up and concentrated on pushing back against the brutal pounding. This was just what he needed. Tired of talking, tired of fighting, tired of longing for what they could never have back again.

As Angel grabbed him by the hair and forced him to expose his neck he closed his eyes in anticipation for that sweet sensation.

This was what it was all about.

Sweat, blood, cum. Such a delicious combination.

* * *

 

 

**Office Sex**

Angel looked up as his office doors swung open, letting loose the appropriate growl when he saw who it was. He was just about to make his usual ‘Go away, Spike!’ comment but before he knew what hit him there were soft lips pressing against his and desperate hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. And suddenly it didn’t matter that they pretty much hated each other or that the files on his desk were being pushed away, paper flying all over the room until it settled on the floor. It didn’t even matter that the door was unlocked and that at any moment anyone could walk in on them.

Because there was a slender hand fisting his cock, a silky tongue fucking his mouth and the room was reeking with Spike’s arousal. Angel thrust into the strong hold until the friction became too much and he grabbed Spike by the hips, flipped him around and ripped his pants off. With a swift thrust he pushed inside, smiling as he felt the cool lube ease his way. Just like a scout his boy, always prepared.

In the hall Harm rolled her eyes, turning up the sound on the radio.

 

 

**In Spanish**

 

Office Sex  
(translation by [](http://vicenivi.livejournal.com/profile)[**vicenivi**](http://vicenivi.livejournal.com/))

Angel levantó los ojos cuando las puertas de su oficina se abrieron de golpe, y soltó el adecuado gruñido cuando vio quién era. Estaba a punto de hacer su habitual comentario '¡Largo, Spike! ', pero antes de saber qué lo había golpeado unos labios suaves se apretaban contra los suyos, manos desesperadas hurgaban con los botones de su camisa. Y de pronto no importó lo mucho que se odiaban el uno al otro o que los expedientes de su escritorio estuvieran siendo apartados, los papeles revoloteando por toda la habitación hasta caer al suelo. Ni siquiera importaba que las puertas estuvieran abiertas y que en cualquier momento cualquiera pudiera entrar por ellas.  
Porque una mano delgada apretaba su polla, una lengua sedosa follaba su boca y el cuarto apestaba a la excitación de Spike. Angel empujó contra el fuerte puño hasta que la fricción fue demasiado y agarró a Spike de las caderas, le dio media vuelta y le arrancó los pantalones. Con un empuje rápido lo embistió, sonriendo cuando sintió el frío lubricante suavizar su camino. Su chico era como un scout, siempre preparado.  
En el vestíbulo, Harm hizo rodar los ojos, subiendo el volumen de la radio

Fin

* * *

 

First one is for [](http://preetybird.livejournal.com/profile)[**preetybird**](http://preetybird.livejournal.com/) who asked for

Pairing: duh!  
Dialogue: Are you sure that goes in there?

 

 

**Fitting Pieces**

“Are you sure that goes in there?”

“Yes. Now hand that over. No, not that one! The other one!”

“That one? Angel, it’s much too big, it’ll never fit.”

“It will too. Just hand it over, will you?”

“I’m telling you, it won’t fit.”

“Spike! Hand it over. Now!”

“All right. Take it then. Don’t blame me if you ruin the hole.”

“Won’t ruin it. See it fits straight in here… Fuck!”

“I told you. Now, where did you put those instructions?”

“Here.”

“See? You turned it wrong.”

“Damn. I swear this is the last time I shop at Ikea.”

* * *

 

 

For [](http://catvampcrazines.livejournal.com/profile)[**catvampcrazines**](http://catvampcrazines.livejournal.com/) who asked for

Pairing: Lindsey/Gunn or Lindsey/Wes.  
Line: "It's a pleasure to clean your cuts and bruises."

I went with the latter. I've never written any of those so I'm sorry if they sound completely OOC.

 

**Clean Cut**

“Ow!”

“If you’d stay still it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

“Quoting Disney now? And they say I’m the evil one.”

“What? What on earth are you talking about?”

“Forget it. Are you done yet?”

“Still a few more stitches then you should be good and ready to go back to your nice little cell.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes. It’s a pleasure to clean your cuts and bruises.”

“Pervert.”

“Midget.”

“Fucker”

“Fuckee.”

“Wha…umph”

“No clever words? No wit to save your tight arse?”

“Mngh”

“And such a tight one it is. Now what do we say?”

“Thank you.”

* * *

 

 

**Untitled**

The thing about Buffy was that she sounded exactly the same fighting as fucking. Oo, aa, moaning through her punches like every single one of them gave her a tiny orgasm. No wonder he got turned on when they fought, he’d listened to her wriggling underneath Farmboy many enough times.

So when they fell over that tombstone and she landed practically on his cock could he help being rockhard? The look she gave him though; like he had shoved a bucket of maggots in her face. Pushing herself off him she stalked away.

But the smell of her arousal lingered.

* * *

 

Another drabble for the 100 word [](http://sickchicks.livejournal.com/profile)[**sickchicks**](http://sickchicks.livejournal.com/) challenge

. Warning for character death.

**Mmmmm, tasty**

It felt heavy in his palm, twitching. Engorged with blood, wetness dripping between his slick fingers. Its throbbing made him hard with need. So soft, and yet solid as he tightened his grip. He could feel his mouth watering, his tongue begging for a taste. Slowly he raised it to his mouth, shivering with anticipation. He had been waiting for this for so long. Tenderly he licked it, gathering the delicious drops. Then he slid his fangs in. Oh, this was indeed heaven. So much more than he had dared to dream of.

He always knew Willow had a good heart.

* * *

 

My answer to the [](http://sickchicks.livejournal.com/profile)[**sickchicks**](http://sickchicks.livejournal.com/)'s 100 word drabble. Warning! Here be rough sex and daddy-talk. Angel/Spike. NC-17

**Discipline**

Fists lifting him, " **Never** ," shoving him against the desk," **ever** ," turning him around, " **talk** " smacking his head into the desk. " **to** " Strong fingers grabbing his pants, " **me** " ripping them off. " **like** " Cool palms on his cheeks, " **that** " prying them apart. " **again**." Wet hardness against his hole, " **Do** " then blinding pain. " **you** " Furious pounding, " **hear** " coppery smell of blood. " **me** ," Oh God, right there! " **boy?** " Electrifying pleasure. " **I** " Thrusting against each move, " **said** " cock crushed into the desk. " **do** " Fangs prickling his neck, " **you** " biting down hard. " **hear** " Yeeeesss! " **me?** " Screaming each others names.

" **Yes,** " heavy panting " **daddy.** "

Soft tongues licking. Purring.

* * *

 

For [](http://moonlit-violets.livejournal.com/profile)[**moonlit_violets**](http://moonlit-violets.livejournal.com/) .

Set probably during Angel S1. Angel/Spike.

 

**Reunion**

The scent hit him as he opened the door. A scent he knew better than his own. A scent that said family.

He entered the apartment hesitantly, closing the door gently behind him. From deep within the dark came the sound of someone breathing in peaceful sleep. He followed the sound into the bedroom. There he stood for a long time watching the small form under the covers, only a tuft of blond hair showing. Dirty clothes lay on the floor, a bottle of JD on the bedside table.

And with a smile he realised he was no longer alone.

 


End file.
